


The Other Beats Hardest

by loudspeakr



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Anal Sex, Angry Sex, Angst and Smut, Blow Jobs, Dom!Link, Drunk Sex, Infidelity, M/M, Mutual Pining, Sub!Rhett
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-22
Updated: 2016-10-22
Packaged: 2018-08-23 23:17:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8346676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loudspeakr/pseuds/loudspeakr
Summary: Link needs, and it just so happens that Rhett is there to give.





	

**Author's Note:**

> My third submission for the Rhink Fall Ficathon 2k16. The prompt was The Neighbourhood's 'Sweater Weather'.

The house is dark. Lights out at eight o’clock, not because that’s how Link wants it, but because it _has_ to be this way. All of the lights in the city are out, the power plant going through some kind of crisis, so the entire metropolitan area, all of it, has been thrown involuntarily back in time to when nightfall meant only shadows and the empty cold.

Christy is out of town, took the kids with her, too, so Link’s all alone, actually alone for the first time in months. He’s on the couch, a glass of scotch in his hands, trying to ward off the icy air in his house, which is dumb because, hey, he moved to California fully under the impression that his severe incompatibility with cooler climates would cause him no trouble here, and this, this right now is the very definition of betrayal. Even so, his feet are bare – because he can’t stand wearing socks when he doesn’t need to – and they pad across the carpet when he hears a knock at the door late at night.

Swinging it open, it’s Rhett – _get back inside, it’s freezing_ – and Link does. He stumbles backwards into the darkness of his living room, and Rhett follows him, a silhouette he would recognise out of any line-up, matching him step for footstep, until Link hits the couch. Rhett’s looking at him real intently, not sure why, and boy, if the next words out of his mouth don’t throw him off completely – _what’s with this weather, huh?_ – the complete nonchalance in his tone and his being here at this ungodly hour not making any sense whatsoever.

_What’re you doin’ here, man?_

From what Link can see – and that isn’t very much at all – Rhett’s got one of his plain cotton tees on, flannel pants sitting low on his hips, a robe tied snug around his middle. The moonlight is just enough that Link can discern the trademark flurry of a hand running through hair, mussing it up even more and, well, add that to the glint in Rhett’s eyes as he looks Link over, tongue darting out for good measure, and dang it, he’s never acted on it before but he might be in trouble here.

 _House is lonely without everyone_ , Rhett takes a shuddering breath, puffs of condensation adding to the weirdness of the situation, because condensation just doesn’t happen in Los Angeles. _Christy took Jessie and the boys with her, didn’t you know?_

Link’s shaking his head no, he didn’t know this, but that figures – he’s been busy lately with Buddy System and all the stuff with GMM and everything else that’s coming up for them. It wasn’t much of a surprise when he found the note Christy left – _we’re heading home for a few days, be back before you know it, love you_ – he’s used to Christy doing things like this last-minute, and she deserves her own kind of break, considering the ridiculous hours he’s been working lately. But they’ve hit that in-between lull now, Buddy System is done with until they figure out the next thing, and right now, Link misses her, and he _does_ know it. He feels her absence no matter where he goes in this house that’s feeling far too big right now, and this weekend was kind of meant to be a relief, a real load off, but now…

Now Rhett’s shaking off his robe, tossing it to the couch, a flash of collarbone as his t-shirt shifts, and he heads for Link’s whiskey cabinet and helps himself, a man at home. _You want one?_

Link nods jerkily, a new glass being pressed into his hand, and he tosses it back without a second’s thought. He should be mad, Christy leaving like that without a word should piss him off, even though they’ve always been like this, Christy doing whatever the hell she wants because she’s her own person, and that isn’t what the issue is here. He _misses_ her, he _has_ missed her. Even though big things were happening in his career, big opportunities, big plans coming to life, is it so much to ask that a wife be there for her husband when he needs her most?

_Link, you’re shaking._

He’s right. His entire body is wracked with cold or anger, one of the two, his fists already clenched when he notices them white-knuckled at his sides. Rhett steps in close, plants warm broad palms on Link’s shoulders and anchors him, holds him there until he can will the angry red haze out of his system.

Why can’t Christy be more like Rhett? Why can’t she be here to do this to him? Not that that makes any sense because he wouldn’t be mad in the first place if she’d been here. He wouldn’t have been mad at all if it were Rhett instead of Christy because Rhett would never do this to him, not ever. _What the fuck?_ It knocks the air out of him, that something like that would ever go through his head. Christy is his wife, his love, his girl. Rhett is Rhett, Rhett is –

_Hey, are you okay?_

The concern on the man’s face makes him want to vomit, because he can see it, Rhett will want to fix everything, he’s good at that, both the wanting to fix and the actual fixing. Rhett’s good at everything, even this, being his life-partner when his actual life-partner isn’t, and –

 _You know what?_ Link is spitting white-hot fire, he knows, he can feel it bubbling up inside him, and he’s usually got it under control, really, but tonight, with the world feeling not quite like the one he knows, anything is up for the taking. And judging by the way Rhett takes the smallest step back, setting his glass down gently on the cabinet beside them, he knows. He knows it, too. _I’m not_.

So Link makes the first move, reaches forward for the scruff of Rhett’s neck and pulls, pressing his dry lips against Rhett’s, and takes what he wants, thrashes his tongue in search of Rhett’s shocked but willing one. And Rhett, wordless and pliant, goes with it, his hands flitting down Link’s arms to his hips and continues to hold him there, fingers lined up along the valleys of Link’s pelvis, at which Link hooks both arms around Rhett’s neck and pulls him in even closer.

In the sweet mess of it, sensations begin to register: Rhett tastes of whiskey and sweetness and summer. Thank fuck Link took his glasses off a while ago because they would’ve been fogged up by now, and he would’ve missed the sight of Rhett’s eyes shut tight, eyelashes interlaced just millimetres away from his, both men breathing hard and gasping in what air they can take between each extended kiss. Link’s hands are somewhere, he doesn’t quite know where, only knows that he can feel sharp corners and soft landings, body hair brushing against his fingertips.

 _Link_ , he hears, _Link, oh, Link_ , his name sounding more and more like a prayer, a burst of reality in the mayhem, but he pushes it back, fights it off with teeth closing in on Rhett’s earlobe, with nails embedded in the plump of Rhett’s ass, with a sigh when Rhett begins peppering kisses on the hollow of his throat.

There is not enough room here, not enough air, _not enough_ , so Link pulls away and he sees the look on Rhett’s face, wild-eyed, caught in the crosshairs. The confusion there is delicious, he decides, it makes his heart thump because he _so_ shouldn’t be doing this, but fuck it, she didn’t want to be here, _she isn’t here_ , so he grabs Rhett’s hand like he has a million times before. But this time, he drags Rhett up the stairs with him, the way he drags Christy up with him when they’re both feeling on-edge after a long night, frisky and ready to jump out of their skin and into the other’s.

Rhett reaches for him before he can reach for the bedroom door, his head dipping, and for a second, Link thinks he’s lost him. But his shirt hikes up, a brush of beard just above his nipple before Rhett’s mouth closes around it and sucks, and _fuck_ , that feels good, that feels too good. Eyes rolling back, Rhett’s head is in his hands as he cradles it, holds him to keep him there as if Rhett would ever go away and leave him, as if there were ever a possibility of that happening. And then his mouth is gone, off planting wet open kisses down Link’s front, painting his chest, his belly, following the trail of hair that leads downward to where only Christy has been for the past eighteen years.

They both know they’re crossing over into unknown territory, a line they’ve only dared to look beyond to see over at the other side, a line they’ve toed countless times, never quite crossing it but always teetering on the edge. Link knows, after this, everything could change, but there is no stopping them now, the decades-old embers of whatever this is between them have finally ignited, and Link knows that the only way to quash an inferno is to let it burn.

He sees it, the fire ablaze in Rhett’s eyes where he is knelt before Link, silently asking for permission as his hands hover over Link’s waistband. Link closes his eyes, gives himself over to it, and Rhett gets the message, shimmies Link out of his confines, the coldness on his bare skin causing him to flinch a little before it’s smothered by a swipe of Rhett’s tongue on his length, already hard under Rhett’s attention.

Rhett begins working at the tip first, flicking tentatively at the underside, making Link shiver all over. But that isn’t the only thing Rhett is working, growing bolder every second, slipping further and further along before he’s kissing the thatch of hair Link keeps meticulously trimmed because _she_ likes it that way, and the sight of Rhett’s beard buried there sure is a strange idea of vengeance, but Link is enjoying it nonetheless.

In fact, this is kind of how he’s always imagined it, whenever he _allows_ himself to imagine it: Rhett’s mouth snug and slick and hot, and it doesn’t surprise him, that he fits so nicely between Rhett’s lips. And when Rhett lets out a hum, a rumbling that tremors from down his throat, the shock of just how nice it feels jolts through Link’s system, hits him hard enough that he needs to stop Rhett midway through, he can’t stand it anymore, he can’t _wait_ anymore.

The bedroom door is kicked open, the space inside pristine and untouched since his family left because Link has spent the past few nights falling asleep to the sound of the TV in the living room, unable to stand the silence that would keep him company here otherwise. Rhett stops in his tracks, looks over the made bed, creaseless and perfect, and finds the voice he initially left downstairs with his empty glass. _Are you sure?_ He backs away again, knowing this room isn’t entirely Link’s, and for a moment, a kind of fury flares in the pit of Link’s stomach. He closes the space between them – _you will not take this away from me_ – because there is nothing in this universe that can keep them apart now, not anymore, not even the swirling concoction of guilt and trepidation that lays in wait underneath all of the adrenaline and alcohol.

But honestly, how can this be wrong? How can _Rhett_ be the wrong decision?

With renewed purpose, Link throws Rhett onto the bed, sends the man sprawling across the covers, and dives in after him, covering Rhett’s body with his, uncovering Rhett’s body with feverish hands that don’t care where the clothes land. He hears the lamp topple from its place on his nightstand, but that can’t possibly take precedence, not when the trail of destruction they’re leaving behind transcends anything they could possibly comprehend right now. And when Link feels Rhett’s arousal pressing up firm and heavy against his, not a thread between them, the niggling thoughts of everything else fly out of his head.

An experimental thrust forward gives Link the thrill he’s spent years searching for, and _of course_ he would find it in the one spot he never thought to look, in the one person who’s been by his side this entire time, the person everyone told him could never be his. Well, _look at me now_ , he’d love to tell them, look at Link Neal and Rhett McLaughlin in bed together, messing up sheets Link Neal’s wife had kept perfect before she left for her trip. Look at Link Neal reach for Rhett McLaughlin in the dark, his fingers trembling but unafraid when they wrap around Rhett’s impressive girth. Look at how Rhett McLaughlin moans thickly between each press of his lips against Link Neal’s collarbones, impossibly gentle for the gravity of the situation, a lifetime’s worth of denial behind each kiss.

 _Link, hey_ , but there’s no time for that, Link reaching for his bedside drawer and taking the small bottle from it. _Look at me, please_ , and the tremble in Rhett’s bass does it, so he stops and looks, and Rhett’s smiling, looking ridiculous with his hair a mess on Link’s pillows and the hint of blush that colours his cheeks, illuminated by what little moonlight can reach them through the window. But Link ignores the fluttering in his stomach, ignores the tenderness in his best friend’s gaze, and squirts the liquid onto his fingertips, wincing at the cool touch before it’s extinguished with a press into the heat of Rhett’s core. _Fuck_ , it’s almost overwhelming, how tight Rhett is, how perfect Rhett feels, how easy it is to make Rhett writhe with just a curl into the man’s inner walls.

Link gets four fingers in when Rhett starts begging, a chant of _please, please, please_ , so Link slicks himself up with another squeeze of the cool gel, tossing the bottle to the floor before he can cap it. He lines himself up, breathing hard not from exertion, but before he pushes forward, Rhett stills him with a hand on his hip. _Let me say something_ , but Link doesn’t want to hear it, even after decades of waiting. _You need to know before_ –

The first thrust has Rhett’s jaw hanging open, his forehead creased with discomfort, and for the smallest moment, Link feels bad. But the flames are licking at his heels, he’s come too far to go back now, so he rears back and slams forward again, and Rhett’s gritting his teeth, willing to take it because tonight he belongs to Link, and Link belongs to him, no longer the husbands and business partners that time has transformed them into. Tonight, Rhett is the one that never got away, the one who was there first, the one who made all the right promises in a place far away from here, in a town that never quite understood.

Link plants a hand beside Rhett’s head, the other gripping at Rhett’s hip, nails biting at the skin there, as he continues driving into the heat with everything he has. He’s never been so thankful for a black-out before, the darkness making good on its promise to obscure Rhett’s face, because Link isn’t sure he can take it right now, judging from the sounds it seems Rhett has no control in making. And it doesn’t help that every gasp, every squeeze of Rhett’s fingers on his forearm, every _yes, yes, yes_ makes him want nothing but this for the rest of his existence.

Hovering possessively over his lover, Link can feel it building, his downfall into an abyss he’ll never find his way out of, and just when he thinks he’s ready for it, his ultimate demise –

_You’re beautiful, Link._

No, stop.

_You’re everything, you’re mine._

Don’t.

_I love you, Link Neal. I love you so –_

Link comes, supernovas exploding behind his eyelids as the world collapses around him, and it turns out Rhett hadn’t been far behind, the emissions of their tryst already cooling on his skin. But Link's is a heart that refuses to settle down – _it’s too late_ – the words shaking themselves loose as Link slips from Rhett, hot tears on his cheeks as he jumps from the bed and grabs at clothes, the blissful look on Rhett’s face long gone.

_Where are you going?_

Christy would never have done this to him.

_Link?_

This right here, what he’s done, is the _real_ definition of betrayal.

_Don’t go._

And when he chances another look at the wounded expression on Rhett’s face, years of trust and brotherhood crumbling before him, he’s not so sure anymore just who was on the receiving end.

**Author's Note:**

> Yikes. Sorry? 
> 
> Comment and kudos! <3


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